So, this is where I will be posting all of my Olicity/Arrow oneshots, any short pieces that don't fit into a longer fic will be posted here. It will probably only be updated whenever I randomly get an idea, so it might be a little infrequent. I have a few more oneshots half-written so, you never know. Also, I'm not sure yet if I'll start taking prompts, but...maybe? Until then, I hope you enjoy!

xoxoNelly

Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or any of it's characters. This is purely fiction.

Make It To Me

Word Count: 2,340

Forty-seven hours ago, Felicity was taken and Oliver hasn't breathed easily since the moment she was stolen from his sight.

Her captor tells her to share her final words with her audience—the whole of Starling City. Felicity's captors has hacked into the Starling City news feeds and now her face is playing on every station on every TV in the city.

"The Green Arrow may have started this crusade alone, but now it's obvious to see he has inspired so many more people to be heroes. He's not alone anymore."

There's a tug on her blond hair that makes her wince, and Oliver winces with her as he watches her face contort on the screen. Her skin is tinged with dirt and grime and sweat, dark circles shadow her eyes and her hair is a tangled mess but she's still his Felicity—still achingly beautiful.

But he can't focus on that because she's being held hostage and the barrel of a gun is pressing against the back of her head.

"I'm not afraid to say that I've been helping the Arrow in his mission for several years now, almost since the beginning. And I have seen him transform from a misguided vigilante into a justice-seeking hero who is admired by the people of Starling City. No longer is he a killer, but a savior—compassionate and caring and generous." Another tug at her hair causes her words to cut off before she continues valiantly.

"He's inspired a whole team of other heroes, all standing for the same things he does—justice, equality, truth. He's not just a hero to Starling City, but he's my hero. And I refuse to give up his identity, or his location, regardless of what that means for my life."

She swallows thickly and Oliver matches her movements.

"Diggle," Oliver says his friend's name in that strained tone he takes on when someone is taking too long to get him the information he needs.

"Lyla's trying to get a location, but the guys at A.R.G.U.S. aren't—" he cuts off abruptly, his shoulders tightening as he glances back at the computer screen that Roy is seated before, trying to triangulate Felicity's position, but the tracker in her boot isn't working like it should. It's given them the wrong address four times.

Oliver turns back to the television screen before him, where Felicity is perched before him but completely out of reach. They've looked everywhere over the past forty-eight hours but have come up empty every time. Time is almost up.

There's something about her eyes though, that he can't get over. He's seen Felicity in hostage situations many times. He's seen her shaking and cowering and whimpering, fearful for her life, certain of death. He's seen her tied up and held at knife point, eyes pleading.

But her eyes now, as he stared at her face, are resolute. She's shaking, but she looks strong—tired, but strong. She's accepted this fate, he realizes, she's resigned herself to death. She's ready to die for him, to protect him.

It shocks him for a moment, because usually he is the one ready to lay down his life for her. To have the situation reversed on him causes his heart to stutter in his chest, because goddammit he loves this woman, with every part of his being and he can't lose her. It's unthinkable.

"We need to find her now," he says as the timer in the corner of the screen continues to count down. They have less than ten minutes remaining to find her or she's dead.

The man holding her didn't give an ultimatum, just announced that in two days time at six o'clock in the evening, he would kill Felicity Smoak, former Queen Consolidated employee who has been aiding the Starling City vigilante for the past three and a half years. He didn't want the Arrow to reveal his identity, he didn't want a trade or a showdown, he just wanted to hurt the Arrow.

Oliver runs his hands through his hair, still in his Arrow suit, pushing his hood off his head as he stares at the screen, his eyes following the changing of the red numbers, his heart beating in time with the seconds ticking down to nothingness.

"We're trying, Oliver," Diggle responds, glancing over at his friend, seeing the tension outlined in the younger man's body. He's on the phone with Lyla, trying to see if the A.R.G.U.S. techs are having any better luck. They aren't.

"Five minutes," Oliver whispers, feeling his eyes sting.

The words are echoed by the man holding Felicity and she just swallows, not showing any sign of submission as she kneels in some dark room. She stares into the camera.

"Arrow, I know you're watching this." She takes a shuddering breath and the shaking of her body stops, her eyes suddenly strong and steely, "I don't want you to blame yourself for this. I wouldn't take back anything I've done for you or your mission in the past three years. So, whatever happens tonight, it's not your fault. My life, my choice, remember?" She closes her eyes for a moment. The timer is down to three minutes. Her eyes open again, "I know two things," she says.

Oliver's breath catches in his throat, a strangled sound leaving his lips at the familiar words they have exchanged many times in the past year and a half.

"The work I have done as a member of your team is the most important thing I've done in my life, I don't regret any of it." She pauses, "and, I still believe in you."

There are other words she doesn't say, because it would give away too much, it would give the man holding her captive too much satisfaction. She wouldn't say it out loud, on camera that she loved him, but he knew it even without her having to speak the words. It was in her eyes, in her voice, in her veiled words. In the way she held her shoulders back, the resoluteness of her blue gaze, her calm expression and her refusal to give in to the man terrorizing her and her city.

She's the hero, Oliver knows this. She's the real hero in this city, not him, not Diggle or Roy or Laurel.

It's always been Felicity.

"Oliver," Roy says from Felicity's monitors, "I can't find her."

Oliver grips the corner of the medical table where he's been on the brink of death and Felicity has brought him back many times and he knows this time he can't bring her back.

"I know," he whispers, though no one is sure if he's talking to Roy or Felicity.

Diggle's throat is tight, and Roy's jaw is set tightly, his cheek twitching as he grinds his teeth.

"Say goodbye," the voice of Felicity's captor sounds and the gun is pressed more forcefully against the back of her head and she shuts her eyes, pressing her lips together tightly. She's ready, and Oliver will never be ready.

"Oliver, don't watch this man," Diggle says, taking a step toward his friend. Oliver shakes his head, eyes never leaving the screen as the seconds tick down. 20...19...18.

She lets out a shuddering breath, her face suddenly relaxing and Oliver can't fight the pride that swells inside of him at the sight of her. She is so strong.

10...9...8...

"Lyla?" Diggle tries one more time.

"I'm sorry John, we can't find her."

He curses under his breath before turning his eyes to the screen. Roy turns as well.

4...3...2...

And then the screen turns black, the lights have gone out wherever she is.

So quietly, that Oliver can barely hear it, she whispers, "I love you Oliver."

"Felicity."

The sound of the gunshot is heard, and Oliver's whole body jumps at the sound.

There is silence for several moments.

Oliver stumbles into the table, his knees giving out on him as he drops to the floor. Diggle turns to the table, placing his palms flat on the table's surface, bowing his head. Roy stares into his lap, fists clenched on the armrests of Felicity's chair.

Oliver's breaths are ragged as he fights back the sobs that want to break free from his chest. He feels like he can't breathe, like there's no longer a reason to.

There's a soft sound somewhere in the background, but he isn't focusing on anything but the pain in his chest.

"Oliver?" and then again, "Oliver?"

He lifts his head, eyes finding the screen once more, "Felicity?"

It's not possible, and she can't possibly hear him.

Then, the lights are back on and her face is on the screen. There are flecks of blood on her temples and her cheeks but she's breathing and he counts her breaths as he watches.

"I-I'm in the basement of an old apartment complex on the east side of the Glades, Arlington Street. The original blueprints for the complex had a basement, but the building was rebuilt after the Undertaking and the blueprints no longer show a basement."

He's out of the foundry seconds later and on his bike. He can hear sirens wailing in the distance, but he knows he will reach her first, because he has to.

He doesn't even park his bike when the building comes into view, just lets it fall to the ground once the engine dies and then he's running to the front of the building, kicking through a window. The building is mostly abandoned but there's a basement door in the ground floor apartment. He throws the doors open, descending the steps as quickly as possible.

The dim lighting and dark walls are familiar from all the time he spent studying them as he watched Felicity on the screen, but now they are physically before his eyes.

And she is there. Her hands are bound in front of her body, zip-tied together and she's breathing heavily. Hanging limply from her hands is a gun. At the sound of someone else in the room she turns, lifting the gun to aim at him.

He steps out of the shadows and she lets out a sob, the gun dropping from her hands.

Her captor lays in a pool of blood beside her, the camera he had been using to film her is lying on the ground, smashed to pieces. There is blood staining her bare knees and splattered across her face and shirt. Just from the scene before him he can guess what happened.

He's on his knees in front of her before another second passes, his gloved hand on her cheek.

Her eyes stare up at him, "I-I killed him."

He doesn't glance at the body of the man she's referring to, "you didn't have a choice."

"I know," she swallows as she stares at him.

Then he crushes her to him, tucking her into his chest, his face pressing into her greasy hair. He inhales deeply at her neck, the lavender scent of her shampoo soothing him. It's been too long since he last held her, since he last let his senses divulge in everything that is her.

He pulls back enough to take her lips with his, sealing their mouths together in a desperate kiss. When she opens her mouth wider to him he releases a soft sound from the back of his throat and her still-bound hands lift to grasp at his jacket.

"I want to go home, Oliver," she whispers, pulling back and he nods, pulling a small blade from his boot and cutting the zip-tie that holds her wrists together. He takes her wrists into his hands, rubbing them softly, his thumbs tracing over the chafed skin before his eyes lift to hers. She's watching his face carefully, still holding herself together valiantly.

"I love you," he whispers in a hoarse voice.

"I love you," she replies immediately and then he swoops her into his arms.

As he carries her out of the abandoned building he ignores the police and the media gathered outside the building. He nods to Captain Lance who stands in the main entrance way of the apartment building.

"Head out the back," he says, "I'll keep them distracted."

He takes her home, where Diggle and Roy are anxiously waiting. He cares for her wounds and then wraps her in a warm blanket. He sits with her on his cot in the foundry where he had proposed six months earlier.

"I promise to not get kidnapped again before the wedding," she whispers as she leans against his shoulder.

He lets out a long sigh before wrapping an arm around her, "well I don't plan on letting you out of my sight for the next twenty-four hours, so that shouldn't be a problem."

She smiles softly before turning her head and kissing his shoulder. "I love you."

He tilts his head to meet her gaze, "and I love you."

They marry each other the next day in the evening. The ceremony is small, and no one questions the lace gloves she wears. Oliver's vows are surprisingly poetic and Felicity cries. He kisses her breathless, Diggle, Roy, Lyla, Laurel, Thea and Barry all whooping enthusiastically as the newly married couple breaks apart, smiling.

He repeats his vows to her almost daily.

"I know two things," he says, "I would not be who I am today without you."

"And the second thing?"

"I love you, Felicity Queen."

And she repeats her vows to him almost daily.

"I know two things," she begins, "I will never leave you or stop believing in you."

She smiles as he waits for the second thing, "and I love you."

And so they love each other, simple and complicated, for years.

For those of you interested in any updates on my multi-chaptered fics, you can check out my profile! I keep that pretty up-to-date on what I've currently got in the works. I'm currently editing the first chapter of a new post-3x09 fic, so be looking for that soon! xo